


right answers.

by winonasawyer



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Arguing, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Unhealthy Relationships, but she’s going through it so don’t be too harsh on her, lol i cant ever write happy shit, mildred is a bitch in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29095953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winonasawyer/pseuds/winonasawyer
Summary: there are right and wrong answers when it comes to gwendolyn, as well. the right answer is to treat her with value, higher than a pet but not a god. a right answer is making her feel special, the only one mildred gives attention to, but still at arms length. a wrong answer is making gwendolyn believe she has any power over her, letting her think she has somehow made mildred soft.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 13
Kudos: 30





	right answers.

**Author's Note:**

> me: *tells myself to stop writing angst and actually make something happy for once*
> 
> also me: *writes this shit*

-

there is a new survey question each week. the board of health tells them that it’s to help engage with the patients; make them feel like their opinions are heard for a little while and help them with their treatment. mildred knows it’s bullshit, but she, (that crick in the neck of a woman) betsy, and the others that don’t really matter- go around and ask everyone to get their answers. afterwards, when she and gwendolyn are alone, they like to answer the questions themselves. 

“what would you do if you suddenly won a thousand dollars?”, mildred asks, carefully brushing back her curls into the rollers. 

gwendolyn smiles the same saccharine smile half of the women’s ward gave her when she asked the question. “well, i’d donate it to charity, of course.”

mildred scoffs. “oh, i’d thought you’d use it to buy an oyster restaurant.”

“that was my second choice.”

mildred rolls her eyes and goes back to wrapping her hair for the night. they’re at gwendolyn’s place, her husband out for the night- most likely with the nice painter man mildred’s met only a few times. though, if anyone asked; gwendolyn was having a night to herself and mildred was staying with a friend, just for tonight. (no one would ask though, and mildred liked it that way.) 

“how about i buy a car?” gwendolyn teases. “a nice, fancy one with a good paint job and leather upholstery so you don’t mind laying down in the backseat?”

she’s barely suppressing her smirk, blue eyes glinting bright as mildred chokes on her laughter. a small smile creeps on her face, and she silently motions gwendolyn over to her. the woman obeys, and mildred basks in her control. 

when their lips meet, mildred moans.gwendolyn’s fingers are lost in her hair; and while she should be upset that her progress on her tresses were ruined, she couldn’t find it in her to care. for a moment, she pulled back with a smile, gwendolyn desperately searching for her lips. 

“you flirt,” mildred says against gwendolyn’s mouth, before leaning in again to suck at her tongue. 

-x-

mildred knows all of these questions have right answers. there are right answers about everything in the hospital, in society. the right answer for ladies is to wear dresses and find a man to give you a few babies and to never go against that man for as long as you live. a wrong answer is to have yourself a female lover with a biting sense of humor and eyes that you can drown in. mildred knows the cost of getting answers wrong; her skin practically curling off of her bones when she imagines the frigid waters and burning electroshock. 

she also knows that she’s getting a lot of the answers wrong lately, but at least she balances out the wrong ones with right ones. had she been taking an exam; her score would be close to sixty, but no one knows of the wrong answers she’s choosing, so to everyone else she's going about life with a passing grade . 

gwendolyn is the only one that knows what lies between them. the empty headed nurses don’t even suspect, and mildred is grateful for that. if they knew (if betsy knew, god if betsy knew ), mildred doesn’t doubt that there would be hell to pay. (they all would tear her limb from limb; burn and char her skin until she had no fingers to hold gwendolyn’s hands, no lips to kiss along her neck, and no eyes to sneak looks at the blonde.) 

it’s surprising that gwendolyn hasn’t taken the opportunity to destroy mildred completely; all though she’s had every chance to do so on numerous occasions, could’ve done it the first time mildred wrapped an arm around her neck and leaned a little too close. being the one to reveal mildred ratched as nothing more than a dirty pervert wouldn’t do much (she’s just as dirty as she is), but it would soothe the urge for revenge; feed it so maybe it wouldn’t be ugly and hungry and strong. but then, gwendolyn doesn’t care for right answers and prefers to make her own. 

what she gets from mildred satisfies her more than revenge, and mildred is careful to keep it that way. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t play around, though. 

“god, mildred. you’re nothing but a damn tease,” gwendolyn curses as mildred nips at her thighs, tantalizingly close to her dripping center- but still not quite there. “stop it.”

mildred does stop; but she doesn’t continue licking at gwendolyn, instead pulling back a little. “oh, well pardon me, your majesty. do you need something?”

“fuck you, mildred.” she grabs at mildred’s shoulders- probably intending to pull the woman back to where she belongs, but mildred dodges backwards with a laugh. she’s left glowering, and the sight is beautiful. 

“i do what i want, when i want.” 

gwendolyn forces a smile, but her eyes are fuming. “and what i want?”

mildred tosses back her hair. “you’re very needy, you know that?”

“i’m the needy one? last time i checked, you were the one that was begging for my fingers-“

“alright! i’ll play nice. god, you're painfully easy to work up, darling.” mildred kneels back down and goes back to her services. she finally touches her tongue to gwendolyn’s throbbing clit, and gwendolyn’s hands clench so hard in her hair that it hurts.

gwendolyn moans. 

the blonde herself is amazing at sex. she sucks and slurps and drinks mildred up like ambrosia; like mildred is water in a cracked desert. mildred thinks herself inferior in comparison, a part of her so deeply insecure that it made her cry the first time gwendolyn spread her legs for her. gwendolyn sometimes forgets to speak any complaints until after the deed is done; an action that makes mildred rage and storm out of the house. gwendolyn always comes running after her though, but mildred feels shame and silently begs for instruction. she knows gwendolyn longs to see her beg, to submit from her pride. 

(that’s something she will never do though, not yet.)

there are right and wrong answers when it comes to gwendolyn, as well. the right answer is to treat her with value, higher than a pet but not a god. a right answer is making her feel special, the only one mildred gives attention to, but still at arms length. a wrong answer is making gwendolyn believe she has any power over her, letting her think she has somehow made mildred soft. 

as long as gwendolyn still hugs her close and her smiles are either all smirks or a little fake, mildred knows she’s getting all of the answers right. she’s not sure what the consequences of getting an answer wrong would be, but thinking of them makes her uneasy. 

-x-

“would you rather people think you gorgeous or intelligent?”

it’s one of the more annoying questions of the week, making mildred roll her eyes. also, most of the men refused to answer until she substituted ‘gorgeous’ to ‘handsome’, because apparently even in an insane asylum toxic masculinity still reared its head. a couple of times she had misspoke, accidentally asking the question with the ‘feminine’ compliment, and in return she received a heavy amount of sass. (she shut that shit down quick, but goddamn. what she wouldn’t do to have men forget for once all of the rules and right answers.)

“i’d rather be both.” gwendolyn says later. 

“you can’t get both.” mildred replies. “even in reality, i mean. pretty or smart. i’d choose smart, that way people know i’m not some brainless tramp. maybe they’ll actually take me seriously, for once.”

gwendolyn considers this for a moment, pulling a cigarette from her purse. mildred hates that something as simple as smoking is making her blush and trip over her words like a foolish schoolgirl, so instead she looks at the ceiling. gwendolyn lights the thing, and takes a huff. 

the, she blows smoke from her mouth and smiles. “i want people to think i’m a fucking hurricane.”

mildred huffs. “good luck with that.”

-x-

gwendolyn understands how people are supposed to perceive them, what she’s supposed to do and how she’s supposed to act, and yet she’ll still falter. it’s one of her aggravating qualities, and mildred wishes to smooth it out or get rid of it entirely. she knows why mildred does the things she does, why she leads the man at the grocery store on. proper ladies love cock, and they certainly don’t indulge in their perverse homosexual desires. she knows this, yet it seems like everytime the two of them go shopping together it ends in a fight. today, it’s over something completely irrelevant; mildred smiling at the handsome employee at the register, and the brunette rolls her eyes as the blonde stomps out of the store. 

“what is wrong with you?” mildred hisses. gwendolyn is storming away, and has been for the past ten minutes; even though they are far from the small grocery store and even further from where she parked her car. she’s being a stubborn idiot, and mildred hates her for it. 

“oh gee, i don’t know, mildred. i guess it’s pretty foolish. i’m sure most people see their girlfriend making eyes at some bloke and it’s no big deal.” 

“yeah, well, you aren’t most people. you don’t just get to tell me what to do like you’re my parent.”

gwendolyn glances back with a sarcastic snort, tears springing in her eyes. “but if i was most people, i could? you would let me?”

mildred laughs, but she’s getting annoyed and all she wants to do is forget this fucking day. “what are you even talking about, gwendolyn? obviously things between us aren’t..look, do you expect me to just scream out into the world just how much of a faggot i am? that isn’t how any of this works.”

gwendolyn looks pained at her words, but she isn’t backing down and mildred’s close to screaming. “you don’t even like men, but you still do everything they ask of you. why? if you’re such a big, strong woman, why do you do this to yourself?”

“i would shut my mouth if i were you-“

“you aren’t scary, mildred.” gwendolyn scowls. “you’re nothing but a pathetic little girl, who acts like she controls the entire fucking world when she doesn’t.”

mildred crosses her arms and wills herself not to cry. “you talk big talk for a woman that only a few weeks ago was married to a man. why do you even care what i do? you and i aren’t…” the brunette gestures impatiently. “ you know what? i’m just going to take you home. you’ve embarrassed me and apparently you want to act like a mewling child, so i might as well take you to a place where you can embarrass yourself in private.” 

she turns her back, and after a moment, gwendolyn follows her. (she should’ve known better to follow her in the first place, but her heart sank a little when she saw the woman walking away.) gwendolyn likes to talk big, cause a scene and then get all romantic. it’s ridiculous, and mildred tells herself that she should’ve just ignored her. 

in the car she settles next to mildred, before grabbing her face and kissing her hard. mildred shoves her away, digging her fingernails into her palms. they’re still much too close to the store for her liking, and she feels sick knowing someone might see. later, she’ll let gwendolyn take out her frustrations (and hope she didn’t fuck up something already so fragile.) the nurses don’t see the bruises, and if they do she glared at them so hard they left with their tails between their legs. 

she doesn’t care. 

-x-

“how do you want to die?”

the question this week is morbid. mildred thinks her superiors are fucking stupid, shouldn’t they know that no good will come of a question that dark in a mental institution? gwendolyn recites it with a chuckle, and she runs her fingers through mildred’s hair as she did so. they’re on gwendolyn’s bed, it’s a friday weeknight and everything is fine for a while. they’ve stayed up much too late drinking and dancing, and mildred almost feels philosophical. 

(she almost says the truth; that she would be happy to die here, drunk and happy in gwendolyn’s arms. she wouldn’t mind if gwendolyn’s smile was the last thing she saw. really, she wouldn’t.)

“suicide. it’s strangely romantic in a way, don’t you agree?”

gwendolyn rolls her eyes, and squeezes mildred a little tighter. “of course you would choose the most gruesome option, angel.” but she’s still smiling, and mildred knows she’s given the right answer.

-

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment or a kudos if you liked this :0


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